


The Sky on Fire

by Idiosyncrasies



Category: BioShock Infinite
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 17:14:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/864558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idiosyncrasies/pseuds/Idiosyncrasies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Men think nothing of a woman until she becomes a monster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sky on Fire

_People are screaming._

_She’s there, on the street. She is the only one not running. She does not need to._ _She will catch them._

 _The people of America send their armies to stop her. Men stand in phalanxes to block her approach. Their guns are ready, but their arms are shaking. They do not fire. They do not dare. When she is close enough to see the sweat of their brow, they break. They turn, they flee._ _Mortars fall from the sky, incinerating soldiers and civilians alike._

_The tanks come next, great and metallic and groaning with the effort of crawling out to meet her. Their canons are trained on her, but even they pause because she does not._

_A man whose chest is decorated with his murders sticks his head out of the leading tank; he stares her down like he is not afraid, but she knows better. She finally stops walking and he pales._

_Men think nothing of a woman until she becomes a monster._

_And then her boys appear. Their eyes are turned, angry and red, on the machines. The general does not react. He does not know what children will do in defense of their mother._

_All at once, they scream. The skies tear open and out fall more machines—except they are men, too, and their eyes are angry, and the drills on their arms tear right through the enemy. Again, people scream. She watches as the general’s head is torn from his body, watches it tumble through the air, watches it land at her feet. The boys pick up his head and begin to play and she watches herself in his eyes, looking down, cold and smiling._

When Elizabeth wakes in her bed, she tries to call this a nightmare, she tries to make it not-real, but it is; she knows better. And it is not the image of the man’s severed head that keeps her up. It’s not the blood. It’s not the fire. It’s the knowledge that that anger is not fiction; it does not belong to someone else. It is hers.

If she wanted, she could be a monster too.


End file.
